1.
Can death be sleep, when life is but a dream,
And scenes of bliss pass as a phantom by?
The transient pleasures as a vision seem,
And yet we think the greatest pain's to die.2.
How strange it is that man on earth should roam,
And lead a life of woe, but not
His rugged path; nor dare he view
His future doom which is but to awake.'George Keats assigns these stanzas to the year 1814.
Their interest is in the somewhat thoughtful vein they display for a youth of Keast's age at that time - eighteen or nineteen years.'~ Poetical Works of John Keats, ed.
H.
Buxton Forman,
Crowell publ. 1895.
